The Reason's Why
by ShinigamiForever
Summary: Just a hint of shounen-ai. If I could give you a summary, I would. But nothing really happens. Ahhh, just read it.


The Reasons Why

The Reasons Why

By: ShinigamiForever

Summary: If I could give you one, I would. But I can't. ^_^;

Pairings: Really none. Main character isn't even for certain, but it's probably Duo. If you really want to be picky, it's most likely to be a 1+2. But non YAOI-fans, don't take that for certain.

Notes: Ack. More writing at 2:00 am. Don't kill me for this one. Absolutely no substance, basically just poetic rambling. So sue me. 

Disclaimers: Ah… What I would do to own Gundam Wing. What I would do to it if I did…^_~

Warnings: None. Take your pick at what's happening. 

***

Because he could. Because the opportunity was presenting itself. Because the others wanted him to. Because he was the only one that could do it. But mostly, he thought to himself, mostly because he wanted to. Because he wanted to be the one that did it. Because every other single time, it was the other way around. 

Because, because, because. The words ran around in his mind, mocking each other, echoes chasing echoes chasing echoes. Or shadows chasing demons chasing shadows chasing demons. He needed to stop thinking in circles. But that would be just him. He would stray off the subject after a while. He knew himself too well. But that was supposed to happen. Wasn't it?

The moonlight broke in through the window into the dark room. A patch of moonlight, he thought to himself. He wanted to laugh. But it wasn't funny. It just was. Now that didn't make sense. He knew it didn't, but at the same time, it did to him. Another suppressed laugh. But the moonlight was bright and shiny, hard and white against the floor. Against the hard floor. 

He shuffled against the wall, trying to keep himself from slipping. His head banged against the wall, purely by accident. He slumped, allowing his shoulders to fall clumsily. He was tired. His vision blurred. Tired. Too tired to even squint into the semi-darkness. Lights. Where were the lights? Oh, that's right. He purposely kept them off. Another dry laugh. 

The moonlight caught a glint against the wine bottle he had his hand clamped loosely around. He smiled. Yes, he thought. Do you want a drink too? The bottle rose shakily up to toast to the patch of moonlight. The pale liquid sloshed around. Like water. Sort of like the water that sloshes around in your stomach. But he had already drunk large quantities of the wine. The liquid in his stomach was partially alcohol. 

"Did you know…" His voice trailed off strangely. It was hard to speak. His mouth didn't seem to respond with his brain. He felt heavy inside his body. Another thought that didn't make sense. He found his other hand gripping at his own shirt. He didn't know why. But he needed that reassurance. That he was still there. "Did…you know…" His voice came in short breaks, like he wasn't breathing correctly. He was just tired. That's all. Yes. Tired.

"Did you know…I…am a god?" He felt like he was talking to the moon. It was an odd feeling. He laughed, but something about it rang falsely in his ears. "I…am a god." He laughed. To himself almost. He brought down the hand that held the wine bottle and drank from it. The liquid burned his mouth. A fiery taste spread through his body, threatening to take control of whatever senses were left.

"I…am an avenging angel…come to…come to…" His voice faltered strangely. Fire caught, once again, in his body. He liked the feel. He was returning to a weird sense of both consciousness and unconsciousness. The bottle shook as he brought it back down. He stared at that patch of fierce moonlight with an odd mix of vagueness and knowing. The rest of the sentence slipped out of his memory, then came back. The words were lit with flames in his mind. Bright. Shining. Sharp. 

"I am…an avenging angel…come to justify… to justify… the wrongs… of… of the world." It felt like something Wufei would say. Not him. He wasn't powerful or honorable enough to be an angel. Or a god. But it felt like something to say at the moment. He was half supporting himself on the wall, half lying on the floor. Not like an angel at all. He laughed again. The sound seemed muffled in the room. Like he was quiet. Or the air was heavy. 

"I fly…on the wings…the wings of hope…to…to…spread peace…"There was the line that he had mocked. There was the line that was definitely not his. There was the line he hated. Because it was so pure, and white, and joyful. No. Because it was something he didn't believe in. And it was something he couldn't do. He smiled to himself, taking another swig from the bottle. 

"And even…even though the angel of death…stands…at my door…" He needed to talk to Heero about something. For a moment, he couldn't think what. It was almost impossible. His brain had changed and morphed itself unrecognizable, but then it came back with brilliant clarity. Startling bright. Frighteningly close. He remembered. And he needed to talk to Heero. 

"I am not afraid." He whispered the last line, voice trailing off into the darkness, a puff of air.

He tried to stand up, accidentally spilling the bottle of wine onto the floor. It was hard, his legs collapsing under him. They couldn't hold his weight, like they had suddenly become lighter over the last hour. He fell back down, leaning against the wall.

He braced himself again, pushing himself the best he could off the ground. He faltered, hovering, then took an experimental step forward. He breathed, not realizing he had held his breath. He laughed again. The scene he was in right now reminded him of a baby first learning to walk. He took another step, hand pressed against the wall for support. Another step, another step. He was almost out of the room. The room with the block of moonlight on the floor. He cautiously turned around, staring at the moonlight. It caught another gleam in the puddle of wine, pale, bright, white that blinded his eyes.

He turned back around, his head ringing with the effort it took. He was drunk, and he just realized it. It was funny to him. Strangely funny to him. He crossed the hallway with some effort, since he had nothing to lean against. Finally, he was there.

The door was nondescript. It was just a regular wooden door, like all the others. A brass knob, no design. The room was quiet, silent, inside. No sign that someone was in. But he somehow knew that his quarry was in. He just had to be. 

He didn't want to knock. It would take too much energy. He leaned against the door with his back, then gently pressed against the door with his fist.

"Hey." His voice sounded quiet in the empty hallway. It cracked slightly, since he had been whispering before. But it didn't sound like his voice. Not at all. It was the voice of a stranger. Of someone who was borrowing his body, he thought. "Hey." 

No answer. He heard a shuffle inside, but that was all. "Heero. Let me in. We need to talk." Another shuffle, then the soft sound of footsteps walking towards him. He was planning to turn around, but his body was tired. He just wanted to sleep. Close his eyes. Quiet. 

He was aware of a soft click, but it wasn't until the wood beneath him disappeared that he registered that Heero had opened the door. He fell. He didn't realize how much he had been depending on the door. But now he was falling, onto the floor probably. Something caught him. It was Heero, but Heero fell over too. They were both on the ground now. 

Heero's arms were under his shoulders, slinging them in a way that was both comfortable and uncomfortable. He could hear Heero's breathing, uneven, ragged. Strange, like his. The room was quiet.

He turned around, trying to flip himself over so that he would be facing Heero. It was a bit hard, he forgot that as soon as he turned around, he would be on top of Heero. But he did it all the same.

The face was white. The eyes were wide, open, scared almost, intense Prussian blue, staring straight at him. He had his arms on both side of Heero, trying to force himself up, but it wasn't working. He felt the Japanese boy's breath in his face, and his on Heero's. Silence, for a while.

"You're drunk." Heero's lips had a hard time forming the words. They sounded almost sarcastic, like he had some meaning behind them for himself. Heero's voice was thick, but still oddly hard. For a while, he just stared into that face beneath him. The eyes against the face, the face against the hair, the hair against the carpet. He was afraid to fall, to collapse. Maybe he would break that face. A wisp of hair fell from his braid somewhere, falling down to dangle its tip on Heero's face. 

"So are you." The face scowled, but only momentarily. "I needed to talk to you," he whispered to Heero. Heero looked up at him. Silence. Those hard, blue eyes that stared at him, reflecting, mocking, asking, hoping, and daring.

"Aa." A steady stream of moonlight was flowing through the window. The door was still open. It was dark, and Heero's breath tasted like wine. He could just drown in those eyes of oceans. Just fall and let himself be carried away. Away from the war, the world, and the colonies, into empty space, nothing but him and those bright blue eyes.

For a few moments, none of them moved.

~owari~

Yeah, yeah. I know it sucks. But it was something that I thought would be fun and interesting to write about. I got the idea for this scene from the fic "It Never Changed," the sequel to "Sayonara." There's a part where Heero is about to get drunk, then Duo comes into his room, but because Duo is drunk, he falls on top of Heero and they both end up on the ground. But the conversation is different. So anyway, comments and criticism to 02_duo_maxwell@gundamwing.net. Thanks! 

"Midnight, ladies and gentlemen, go to bed. Same bat time, same bat channel, *smooch*. "


End file.
